Nothing mattered so much as the fact that she should one day get her revenge, and she would. She would make the world know what it was like to be without rose water. What it was like to be without hope, without solace, without love.

She inhaled sharply or at least attempted to, it was as if her lungs refused to expand. Her little boy would never laugh, never see her face or his father’s, never chase after butterflies, he would never climb trees, he would never get to know his wonderful family, and he would never be able to even feel what it was like to suck in a breath of fresh air.

It was funny that muggle fairytales usually told of wicked stepmothers. In her humble opinion, it were the stepfathers that were far crueller. She had never met anyone who actually liked their stepfather. Surely, that was telling?

She never would have suspected that it would end up like this. She was imprisoned along with her husband, her brother-in-law, and Barty in Azkaban. At first, everything was painfully funny, and she laughed so hard that she could cry.

A/N: Song used in this piece is by Antimatter and is titled, "The Art of A Soft Landing". Beautiful banner thanks to Azure of TDA!

He is simply grotesque, an ugly beast fit to live with the spiders, and dwell in the shadows. Yet not beautiful enough or special enough to be respected nor loved. She is the wildfire meant to bring light to everything, but she can no longer brighten that dark abyss that is he. He is desolation and mourning, she is laughter and love.

She had been a precious gift. Yes, she had shifted precariously through her slight life, but that was simply because she had no other way. She couldn’t help it, and he hated that Albus chosen knowledge over them.

She wondered if he could hear the steady pounding that echoed in her ears. She never knew that she would feel such bliss. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Was this what love was like?

Before Molly Weasley become mother to one of the most famous families in the Wizarding World, she was a wife and a sister. A sister to two of the most wonderful men she would ever know, that were cruelly taken from her in an unfair war.

The sky dipped into a midnight blue, as the sun finally skittered out of view awkwardly like a spider, reminding him that even the universe was imperfect, and it wasn’t so eccentric that he should pine over a girl of her magnificence.